Making things keeps my brain functioning, and I try out all sorts of different things, which means I’m often in a little over my head. I get through by reading what’s in front of me, responding to what emerges, trusting improvisation over formula. That’s how I approach both my creative work and my professional life as an organizational architect.

Photography, printmaking, poetry, calligraphy, quilting, painting. Whatever medium fits what needs to exist. I create when something grabs me, not on schedule. Some months are prolific. Others are fallow. Both matter.

I’m drawn to uncomfortable juxtapositions, language play, the beauty in imperfection. My work values authenticity over polish—the hand-engraved charm with “rustic appeal,” the poem that lands weird, the photo that captures grimacing effort rather than filtered perfection.

Creative thinking and complex problem-solving aren’t separate for me. The same mind that makes poetry helps me get people to work together. Pattern recognition, emergence, sitting comfortably with discomfort—these show up in everything I do.

I’m exploring what it means to share creative work publicly after years of making privately. This site is part of that practice.

Art too often treats the audience as tourists. Through installations, games, sets, and other works, I create multisensory alternate reality experiences for people to participate in rather than observe. Participants physically engage with alternate realities through tangible, interactive experiences. They can approach the work in any way they want, creating a unique, more personal narrative for each person. 

Giving the audience a role beyond observer fosters a greater sense of agency and immersion in the world. My work invites participants into meticulously designed alternate realities for as long as they want to play in my world. I prompt emotional response through three main areas:

• Sensation – enjoy beauty and feel emotion
• Narrative – follow the story that calls to you
• Discovery – explore and learn something new

To best understand my work, be curious. Follow the joy. And don’t be afraid to look a little silly in your search for answers.